


Sentiment

by Rotpeach



Series: The Great Tumblr Rehoming of 2018 [8]
Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Decapitation, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2019-09-16 10:05:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16951953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rotpeach/pseuds/Rotpeach
Summary: The "to what life?" ending.





	Sentiment

**Author's Note:**

> originally written for goretober 2016; prompt 13: "keeping a trophy"

The house has been quiet for hours save for the occasional turn of a page when Rire suddenly says, “That was rather disappointing.”

He’s seated upon your armchair like a king in his throne, frowning down at your copy of Goethe’s _Faust_ that rests in his lap.  The sickly-sweet stench of rot emanates from the kitchen, flies blooming from rancid meat left out on the counter and bread loaves turning green and black with mold.  Dark red stains have dried onto the walls and hardened the carpet in the living room, but the curtains are drawn and the lights are dim. From the outside, it probably just looks like no one’s home.  It may be a day or two longer before anyone thinks to check on you, but it won’t matter by then. 

“I don’t mean to say that it was poorly written,” he amends, “But the story of Faust’s bargain with Mephistopheles predates Goethe, and this retelling completely misses the most important aspect of that tale.”  Rire smiles at your absent, hollow gaze as he runs a hand through your hair, a captive audience. You don’t talk back anymore; you don’t fight him, you don’t look at him with a defiant light in your eyes, you don’t even flinch when he touches you now.  You may have thought once that this would be the best way to survive, but the novelty of your compliance has begun to fade.

“Faust,” he tells you, “was damned from the beginning.  He signed over his soul and reaped the benefits while they lasted.  There is no loophole in a demon’s contract, no room for salvation.” He scowls at the paperback cover. “Yet that is exactly how this version ends.”

You say nothing.  Your persisting silence makes him sigh.

“But perhaps I’m missing the point,” he says, “I understand fiction is a popular form of escapism.  To do what is not humanly possible.” His smile widens, pointed teeth glinting in the low light. “But I fear you read this and confused it for reality.“

You don’t move when he sets the book aside and stands from the chair, towering over you.

“Our time together has drawn to a close, little human.  Rest assured, you proved to be far more entertaining than I initially believed you would be.  That’s why I decided to be merciful and heed your wishes.”

He reaches for you and leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, smiling wickedly when he pulls away and whispers, “Consider this a Faustian bargain for your continued existence.”

Still you don’t answer him, but he can’t really blame you for that.  On his way out the door, he bends to pick up the glass vial where your soul resides and slips it into his pocket, leaving your severed head behind on the coffee table to rot.


End file.
